


Green Bean Supper

by thebaseofallmetaphysics



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dust Bowl, Gothic, Great Depression, Historical, Novel, Original Fiction, Southern Gothic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28443396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebaseofallmetaphysics/pseuds/thebaseofallmetaphysics
Summary: i don't know yet





	Green Bean Supper

Thea didn’t really like green beans, she noted to herself at the dinner table. She resigned to squeaking them around under her fork instead of eating a single one. She never knew why her mother didn’t think to make something a little less disgusting and rubbery for dinner.  
As she sat there, palm to her face and elbow on the table, she listened to her parents bickering from the other room. She blew at a strand of straw-blonde hair that had fallen over her left cheek and sighed, hearing the two of them say something about the house.   
They’d had this same argument many times, so she didn’t think much of it. She heard the word “mortgage” coming from her mother’s mouth a lot. “Foreclosure?” Whatever that meant.   
Clicking heels against the wood floor of their small house made Thea’s ears perk up. Her mother was shuffling, barely lifting her feet at all as if she were a ghost, back toward the stove to tend to whatever mothers liked to tend to in the kitchen. There were tears staining her cheeks with a wet shine, and she dabbed at them with her apron, not saying a word to Thea.  
“You okay, Momma?” She felt obligated to ask. She didn’t like watching her mother cry.  
“Well. Why don’t you ask your father?” she replied, not even really to Thea at all, instead throwing her voice with clear intention of her husband hearing it.   
Thea’s father grumbled something from the other room, and she picked out a few cuss words from the string of gibberish.   
“Is somethin’ wrong with the house?” Thea asked, kicking her feet against the bar between the chair legs. Avoiding the green beans with as wide a radius as she could, she instead reached for another bite of steak off her plate.  
“Nothin’ wrong with the house,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel and sighing deep from her stomach. “We might just have to…well, something might be wrong for us. But nothing is wrong with this damn house.”  
Thea didn’t really know what that meant. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t really bother prying farther. It sounded like grownup stuff.   
“We’re gonna be fine, ain’t we?” she asked, wanting to sound optimistic as she continued banging the backs of her feet against the wooden bar.   
“We’ll see, Dorothea. We’ll see.”


End file.
